


i hope when you think of me years down the line you can't find one good thing to say

by the_everqueen



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Crack Fic, F/M, The Author Regrets Nothing, i repeat: none of this is supposed to be serious, the author also condones none of this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 03:39:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11432394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_everqueen/pseuds/the_everqueen
Summary: The thing is, Hamilton is a politician. He knows the game. You don’t need to convince everyone, you just need to convince the people that matter. Stupid to waste time running around for votes from individuals when you could get the head of the party in your pocket.And he knows who the real Commander in Chief is.





	i hope when you think of me years down the line you can't find one good thing to say

**Author's Note:**

> i've seen hate-sex fics for Jefferson/Hamilton and John Adams/Hamilton but you know who else really hated Alexander? Abigail.

Alexander has always known how to get what he wants.

At present, what he wants is a command. ( _ Same as ever,  _ Eliza says, rolling her eyes.  _ I swear, I should buy you a set of toy soldiers, that’d hold your attention. _ ) Adams is raising an army to march against those idiots who won’t pay their fucking taxes, and Washington recommended him as inspector general, but Adams prefers Knox, despite Knox being too full of butter and gout to ride a horse. Not that Alex dislikes him — they served together, Knox took his side most times back in the cabinet — it’s just so obviously personal. Adams hates him, so he won’t get the job, even if he is the most qualified. He served under Washington for most of the war, he led the charge against Redoubt 10 at Yorktown, and he’s not two heartbeats from the grave. That’s more than Adams has managed in his life. 

But, fine. Adams wants to make this hard? Alex could relish a challenge.

The thing is, Hamilton is a politician. He knows the game. You don’t need to convince everyone, you just need to convince the people that  _ matter _ . Stupid to waste time running around for votes from individuals when you could get the head of the party in your pocket. 

And he knows who the real Commander in Chief is.

He wears his nicest blue waistcoat (reminiscent of his military uniform — patriotic, see? he’s no monarchist), but when Abigail opens the door, she looks at him as though he’s crawled out of the gutter. 

He bows. “Mrs. Adams.”

“Mr. Hamilton.” She wrinkles her nose. “I’m afraid John isn’t home.”

“A rare occurrence. But, ah, I actually wanted to speak with you?”

“About?”

He flashes his most winning smile. “Inside, if you please.”

She leads him into the parlor: the decor has changed, since the Adamses took over the President’s House, muted tones that make him stand out like a peacock in his fashionable clothing. He turns in a little circle, observing, showing off the slim cut of his jacket. 

Abigail settles down on the couch, skirts bunching up around her hips. She looks as imperious as a queen with her arched brows and severe mouth. “Well? What did you come for?”

“I wanted to discuss my appointment as inspector general.”

“And what does that have to do with me? I’m not the President.”

“Because you’re going to recommend me for the position.”

She laughs. “Is this your method for getting votes? No wonder it took you so long to pass your banking scheme.”

“As though you could have gotten it sooner?” he snaps. “Then again, you had Jefferson in your pocket years ago.”

And that’s foolish of him, picking a fight when he’s supposed to be charming. Eliza, exasperated:  _ your temper is going to get you killed one of these days. _ But Abigail preens, her mouth twisting up into a considering smirk. “Thom got the capitol. Did you bring something for me? You of all people should know you can’t negotiate without a proper bargaining chip.”

He kneels at her feet. Looks at her through long, thick lashes, his fingers tracing the seam of her stocking.

“You?” she scoffs, though she doesn’t pull her foot away. “What makes you think I’d want you?”

“You made a comment to Jefferson about my eyes.”

“That I saw Cassius in them.”

“Do you really fancy yourself Caesar’s wife? I would figure you a Portia.”

“Not one of the three sisters? The harbingers of doom for an ambitious, faithless  _ Scotsman _ —”

His hand moves up to her garter, snaps it against her thigh. She gasps.

Here is the third thing Alex knows: he was right.

Abigail narrows her eyes at him. “Thom said you spoke for six hours at the convention. I did wonder whether that mouth might have a more useful application. Convince me, Hamilton.”

He pushes up her skirts and gets to work.

Not that Alex likes to brag — oh, who the hell is he kidding — but he’s  _ good _ at this. Good at licking and sucking and finding the sensitive spot that will make a woman tense and moan. He uses his fingers, too: gotta make a convincing argument, and it lets him talk a stream of words into her. “... you like that, feels so good, bet Adams never does this —”

She grabs his hair and gives it a sharp yank at that. “Don’t talk about John.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbles, and reapplies himself.

She smothers her scream with her hand, digs fingernails into his scalp. Alex hisses but pulls back, licking the spit and slick off his lips. Sits back on his heels and waits for further orders.

Abigail takes a shuddering breath. “You may go.”

“Were you convinced?”

“I’ll talk to John. No guarantees.”

He undoes the ribbon in his queue, finger combs through his mussed hair. “Nothing is certain but death and taxes.”

“Spare me your attempts at humor.” She readjusts her skirts. “I believe you can show yourself out.”   
  


He gets the letter a few days later, congratulating him on his appointment as a Major General. It’s even in Adams’s own handwriting. 

Guess he made a good enough argument.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> John Adams did indeed try to make Hamilton third in line for command over the US Army during the Whiskey Rebellion. 
> 
> Abigail actually made her comment about Hamilton being Cassius to John.
> 
> Hamilton's reference to Portia is from Merchant of Venice, but Abigail also signed some of her letters to John as "your affectionate Portia"
> 
> yes, that's a Macbeth reference
> 
> Hamilton's parting quip about death and taxes is an intentional Franklin quote: "in this world, nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes."
> 
> title from TMG "No Children"


End file.
